


Comfortably Numb

by pikwanchu



Category: Karneval
Genre: Angst, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 18:45:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2398910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikwanchu/pseuds/pikwanchu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "gareki is forced to kill someone to save someone else & while everyone in karneval praises him, nai knows how he really feels, which is really shitty and internally mortified. hurt/comfort pls. or, gareki has nightmares and nai comforts him" (via inky-blue)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfortably Numb

The shot.

Faces came and went around him like he was riding a carrousel; endlessly twirling around him. Smiles, faces, congratulations, even going as far as physical contact with small pats on his shoulder. Everyone told him he did the right thing, he was their hero today. He had actually earnt his place there, now. He was a real, useful member now.

The shot, the impact, and the blood staining his shirt.

He accepted every word without processing it. Just a small nod was enough for everyone; the mere acknowledgement of today’s top member was filling. People kept entering and leaving the room like ants getting to a rotten body, continuously, efficiently. He got to see every single person that had visited the room; some of them he had seen before, some faces were completely new, they were all filled with excitement. He was the main attraction after all.

The shot, the impact, the blood, and the blood-curling cry of a too young girl.

_“Daddy! No!”_

 

Little by little, the praising, the laughs, the smiles, the faces started leaving the room. The same room that had felt too packed, now felt too big. The ants had already cleaned off the meat, the skeleton was left. The only ones left were his blonde friends; Tsukumo was a statue like always, her permanent serious face seemed grimmer though.

Yogi was more like a mask. One of his long hands pressed his shoulder, reassuring him he was still in a plane of reality. He wore a huge smile that even lit up his eyes.

“It was the right thing, you know. We are all… really proud of you.”

He could see the struggle to keep it in the corner of his lips. Words didn’t reach his ears anymore.

“Whatever.”, drily came out of his throat, and his legs began moving mechanically out of the room as well. They knew the way.

Even though reality was quieter now, everything felt buzzed. The corners of the halls were blurred. Every angle was distorted. His breath felt short but overwhelming. Was he even awake? Was he dreaming? It felt like one of those nightmares, where you run, run, run, but the way is infinite, and the end is inexistent.

The shoot, the blood, the cry. The usual cold of the gun in his hands had felt like an iceberg then. Heavy, gelid. As if he was holding the dead body he had just…

Nothing felt real. Was anything real at all? Was he still a human, living, breathing? He didn’t feel like one. No, he had been just a puppet, a rotten body, and then, now, a skeleton. The empty carcass of a thing that had meant something to someone, some time ago.

He didn’t realize he was in the room, on his bed, until the softness of his covers molded under his frame. He let all the air out of his lungs, and stayed like that a bit. He had time to wonder if that was what being dead felt, before the burn in his chest made him breathe again. However, it didn’t feel relieving, like when you are under the water for too long, and you get a mouthful of air as soon as you get your head out. It felt… difficult. It was difficult to breathe in. It was difficult to blink. It was difficult to swallow. His throat was in a tight, wet, complicated sailor knot, and the basic functions were just as hard as the forced ones. They had all became forced, perhaps.

The shot. The impact. The blood, so much and thick that was distinguible behind the black of his expensive shirt.

He wasn’t aware of his company until the room went dark, and his eyes found two caramel ones staring right back. They fluoresced under the shadows, they were nitid. They were the first sharp thing he had seen after that, and he was able to tell they were real. He was real, Nai was real, everything was, and had been real.

He followed his frame half concealed by the darkness of the night, half lit by the ever watching moonlight that got into the room by the windows. Nai climbed the three steps that reached to the top bunk lethargically, almost in the slowest of motions.  The young boy sat in front of him, leg crossed, and what had lit his eyes ever since he got in the room was distinguishable now, it was concern.

“Gareki “, Nai called, sitting straighter, his voice clear-cut reached into his mind, “You are shaking.”

Silver-blade eyes shoot to his own hands, and he saw the jerky short movements his hands suffered. His fingers instantly tangled between the spotless white cover. They looked dirty, even though no stain covered a single inch of his skin.

“I am.”, he recognized, his voice still sounding throaty. He was still choking on the knot.

“ I’ll help you, Gareki.”

Nai’s arms wrapped around his neck, colliding on his torso. The pression that they made reminded him about his materiality. He felt a breath leave his lungs once again, only to come back seconds later, willingly this time. His arms instantly moved to wrap around him, but hesitation came to him like a crash. What if he felt that shivering cold again? What if reality wrapped itself once again, and the boy was nothing but an illusion?

Nai’s warm breath, released on his neck, made the doubt fade away. His hands clenched now on him, he was his anchor now, he refused to let go.

They stayed like that for seconds, minutes, hours, days, years. It was infinite. The weight on his chest was far from gone, but he was using it to support Nai now, so he was okay with it.

“Gareki, you aren’t blinking.”, his voice filled his eyars once again, tranquil, sharp, the boy held no hesitation on it. “Close your eyes.”

And he really tried. But he couldn’t. Everything came back with an overwhelming quote of reality.

The shot, the sound, the cry, the blood everywhere. The blood on the baby girl’s cheek. The empty fright on those dead eyes.

“I can’t.”, he admitted, in a cracked whisper. “I can’t close them, Nai.”, his voice was fallen porcelain.

“Why?”, he asked, in an innocent whisper.

In, out. In, out. Air didn’t burn anymore. But was still heavy. The answer was on the tip of his tongue, praying to leave his mouth, praying for freedom. He felt it was too… cruel, and Nai was just too pure.

Besides, an egoistical part of himself didn’t want Nai to see him as the monster he was. He wanted his humanity back. He wanted his innocence back. He wanted to be on Nai’s level, he wanted to be worth of him.

“I keep seeing it.”, he finally let out, and he felt the boy between his arms stirring a little, trying to move. In a reflex action, he held him tighter, and his thoughts went berserk for a second. Had he finally understood how rotten he was? How unhuman he was? Had the weight of his actions finally sank in his white mind?

Nai kept struggling, and he finally relaxed; but before he could look down in gloom, the caramel fluorescence magnetized his metalized ones. They were looking for more answers.

“I didn’t think twice, his daughter saw everything.”, his voice was painfully low, painfully broken. “I killed him like an animal, Nai.”, he bit the inside of the cheek, and waited for his reaction.

Gareki expected fear, coward, retreat. Gareki expected at least a flinch of fear.  He had used those  _exact words_  to provoke him that, as if making him leave his side would be the only way of making him safe.

But Nai’s eyes melted in compassion and understandment.

“You are just human, Gareki.”

His voice filled every corner of his mind. His words tangled and untangled, making and not making sense each second that went by. He let that lie fill him, numb him like a painkiller. He felt the pressure leave his neck, and the sentence sank deeper, echoing Nai’s angelical voice, until he found them so sincere, that he was able to believe them.

His arms enveloped Nai once again, and this time the latter let himself relax under them. Gareki found himself synching to his breath. He found himself burying his nose between his snowy locks, and closing his eyes against his cheek, and his internal storm retreated into the furthest of his mind. They were so close that they might as well have been one.

Perhaps like that, he would feel human again. 


End file.
